Bottles
by SourNoodles
Summary: [FANFIC CONTEST SUBMISSION] My submission for a Life is Strange fanfic contest where I managed to finish top 10. Here it is in all its short but angsty glory.


**Bottles**

 _It has been a year since The Week That Never Was, and Max still struggles to erase the memories from her dreams, but she finds solace in the fact that Chloe is still by her side._

Tonight is colder than usual. Well, colder for an October evening at least.

My apartment welcomes me with bare silence as I throw off my sneakers and coat, hanging it up along with my scarf on the rack beside the front door.

I navigate around the kitchen counter and pull out a bottle of scotch from the fridge and a cheap glass from the cupboard. A year ago I would have scrunched my nose and stuck my tongue out in disgust at even the mere sight of an empty beer bottle but now, I feel like it's just one of the many things I have left.

I gulp down the liquid and lightly shudder. An exasperated breath escapes my mouth as I remind myself to check my emails, just another part of my mundane everyday routine.

The small animated loading circle spins, prolonging my anticipation as I impatiently wait for my crappy apartment wi-fi to log me in.

But it wasn't worth the wait. When has it ever been?

Another application to a photography contest left unanswered, and to further taunt me is the existing list of rejected ones spanning the past two months.

I feel alone. I look up and only just realize that Chloe is nowhere to be found. She's typically waiting for me on the couch, watching old movies that she's probably seen a dozen times, but still amused nonetheless.

"Chloe?" I call out, hoping for an answer.

A head of blue emerges from the open bedroom door after a few moments and I can't help but crack a smile at her greeting me with a cute wave in her pajamas.

"Hey." She smiles and makes her way over to the counter, leaning over it and looking at my bottle of scotch. "I bought that last week." She chuckles.

"Yeah, I know?" I look at her, confused as to why she brought up such a thing.

"And you're already pretty much done the entire bottle." She looks back at me with half a smile, probably intrigued at my alcohol intake.

"Oh. Sorry." I scratch the back of my head awkwardly.

"Nightmares?" I simply nod at her single-worded question. It's all she needs to know.

"Then if drinking helps, I'll go out and get more," She looks into me with her bright azure eyes beautiful enough to permanently lock me in a gaze every time she stares at me. "but you know we need to get you some help, right?"

"What kind of help?"

"I don't know, therapy or something. It's not like you can drown out your problems with a bottle of scotch every night."

"Therapy? What the hell do I tell them? 'Yeah, I found out I could reverse time and I had to save my best friend over and over again.' Chloe, they have places for me people like me and they're called asylums." Chloe ducks her head down and I feel slightly guilty after talking back at her with such a hostile tone. I know she's only trying to help, so I at least owe it to her to try and cooperate. It's not like I'm the only one dealing with this shit, she's just strong enough to ignore it.

"I know. I'm sorry, I just…"

"No, it's okay. I know you're just trying to help." We stay there in silence for a moment. I just stare at that damn bottle of scotch and scold myself for developing such a distasteful habit. Not like I can stop. God knows how many times I've tried that.

My eyes adjust to the calendar at the edge of the counter.

 _October 7_ _th_ _, 2014._

I chuckle, and Chloe looks back up at me with a puzzled look on her face.

"What's so funny?" She asks, looking over to the calendar herself after noticing that I was blatantly staring at it like it was a shiny gem.

"Can you believe it? It's been exactly one year." My eyes are just glued to that single box on the October page, a box in which I scribbled out to forget everything.

"Since I died?" Chloe looks back at me, then back down to the marble counter. "Yeah."

It all comes flooding back. Waves of dreadful memories washing into my head and infecting it like a plague, burying itself into my retinas once more after hiding for a short time. If these images were a colour, it'd be crimson. Pure crimson.

I still can't shake the sight of the worst part of it all.

Blood on bathroom tiles pouring slowly, painting the shiny white with a thin layer of dark red glistening off the light. Sometimes, in dead quiet moments like this one, I still hear the dull ringing of the gunshot in my ears.

It never goes away. Never.

A teardrop lands on the marble surface, and I'm quick to wipe away the next.

"I…" My words shiver under an oncoming rush of tears and emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "…I miss you so much…" This time I can't stop it. My vision blurs and I silently weep as my mind spirals out of control with haunting sights of…everything. Chloe, Rachel, Kate. Everyone I've tried to save and failed.

"I know, Max. I miss you too. And you know I'll always love you, no matter what." Chloe consoles me with her soft voice. I try to find solace in the fact that she's here, but I need to accept the reality that she's not.

"Of course you'd say that. I just made you up so you could say what I want to hear. You're not real." It stings myself to say those painful words. I wish I could believe that she was still here with me, comforting and protecting me from everything I suffer from, but the harsh truth is that I can never forget. Even with a million fake Chloes I will never forget.

"Max, of course I'm real." My fist clenches as the lie hits me like a bat.

"You're fake." I spit, digging my nails into my palms enough to make them bleed.

"Max, please…"

"GO AWAY!" I snatch the bottle of scotch and hurl it across the room, shrieking in a blind fury as it crashes on the floor with sickening smash. Whatever liquid still left over pours out onto the hardwood along with pieces of broken glass.

My legs give in and I let myself collapse onto the kitchen floor, huddling into a fragile ball as my sobs echo throughout the empty apartment room.

And just like that,

She was gone.


End file.
